


First Thing In The Morning

by mylordshesacactus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Domestic Interlude Trash, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Overwatch Agents Being Nerds At Each Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6759454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercy is coming off second watch. She really just wants to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Thing In The Morning

The problem with being an undercover organization of outlaw vigilantes was, among other things, that they couldn’t exactly check into a hotel room. It was a miracle they had been able to stay in Cairo long enough to get Lena back after her desync, and even then most of the work had been done on the run and they’d only come back for her once the new accelerator was finished.

Lena hadn’t hidden her pain at hearing that nearly as well as she thought she had.

But she’d rallied, as always, and by now was very much back to her old self. Some days Angela wondered if that young woman realized how desperately the team needed her and her unfailing optimism.

This time, they’d been able to slip into an old Watchpoint unnoticed and would be able to stay for a while; but with Overwatch becoming more and more open, these facilities were often under observation. Talon ambushes were one thing--even their tiny strike team could handle  _ them _ . The problem came from local police or military. Governments were starting to turn a bit of a blind eye, these days, but every so often they really  _ did  _ stick to the Petras Act.

They were just doing their jobs. These were people Overwatch was meant to  _ help _ , not fight. 

Their saving grace was the old global network of safe houses, set up to be used by Overwatch’s private witness-protection program, retired agents, members who made the wrong enemies...anyone who needed to lie low. The new strike team moved between them at need; it got cramped, but each location held supplies of cash that allow them to restock, enough beds to at least give the wounded a chance to recover, and--most importantly--most of them featured integrated AI systems for Athena. Sterile, or even sterilizable, medical facilities were understandably less common. Angela made do.

The biggest problem tended to be smuggling in the rhinoceros-sized gorilla. Their last safe house had been a New York apartment. “Close quarters” didn’t  _ begin  _ to cover it.

Stifling a yawn, Angela leaned back and took a long drink of coffee. She made a face; it was cold now, but she needed it if she intended to get through this shift. Even with the brightness on the security room’s monitors turned down as low as she dared, her eyes had been aching for hours. Finding a usable Watchpoint was a godsend these days, but it certainly didn’t make second watch any easier.

A light tap on the door made her jump. She was reaching for her pistol just to be absolutely safe when Athena’s gentle voice came on from the desk speakers.

“Tracer is waiting outside, Dr. Ziegler,” she said calmly. “She is scheduled for third watch. As it’s currently 0255 hours, I imagine she is reporting to relieve you.”

“Thank you, Athena.” Angela buzzed Lena through the security door, and did not put the pistol down as she swivelled to face her. “ _ You _ .”

Lena ran a hand through her hair, putting on her most charmingly rakish grin. “Evening!” At Angela’s unimpressed look, she pouted. “C’mon, love, I’m fine.” She tapped the crutch under one arm. “Don’t even need these anymore, honest!”

“I told you to  _ rest _ ,” Angela said sternly.

Lena rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Still on the schedule, wasn’t I? Nobody told  _ me  _ you got Winston to replace me ‘till I was already on my way.”

“Hi,” came Winston’s sheepish rumble from the hallway behind her. One massive furry hand waved awkwardly around the corner.

“Figured you wouldn’t mind me sayin’ hello, what with me already being up and all. It’s just sittin’ in a chair, you know. You should approve of that! I’ll have to stay sitting for hours, Mercy. I’m removing temptation!”

Angela gave her a warning look, which the object of her wrath responded to by all but batting her eyelashes. Oh, fine. Lena  _ had  _ been behaving recently, using her crutches like she’d been ordered and staying in her own time. And with several of their far-flung allies due to arrive in the alpine Watchpoint within the next few hours, she  _ supposed  _ she could indulge Lena’s cabin fever on the logic that she wouldn’t have to ship out for the next op if she wasn’t recovered yet.

Apparently reading her capitulation on her face, Lena whooped and leaped up to punch the air. Angela yelped and was half on her feet before Winston’s hand flashed out in time to catch Lena in midair and gently lower her back to the ground. She at least had the decency to blush.

“Right,” she said. “Sorry. Forgot. Uh...least I’m feeling better, yeah?”

Angela gave her a stern look as she tucked her sidearm away and picked up the caduceus where it was propped against the wall. She tapped Lena’s nose with it in a mild rebuke. “Feeling better is good,” she allowed. “Healing properly is better. I hope I don’t have to remind you that you are going nowhere without a clean bill of health, Agent Oxton?”

Lena stuck her tongue out as she swung herself over to the chair and flopped down into it.

“That’s blackmail, that is,” she complained. “And with Lucio due any minute and all! I was looking forward to…” Seeing the way her doctor’s eyes flashed, Lena hastily switched tacks with a wide, terrified smile. “Sitting on the sidelines and lettin’ my leg heal before I raced him once I got permission, ma’am.”

Angela’s lips twitched. “And don’t forget it. I’ll see you in my office in the morning, Lena.”

“Poking and prodding,” Lena grumbled. “Can’t wait.”

“ _ First thing _ in the morning, Lena.”

“Highlight of my bloody day.”

Angela exchanged a wry look with Winston, who shrugged helplessly. Well. Lena’s mood would likely improve when Angela cleared her to put  _ cautious  _ weight on her injured leg again in the morning.

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Winston muttered as she massed him. “Me and Athena were planning to run some tests anyway.”

Angela squeezed his powerful shoulder gratefully. “You need to sleep too, Winston,” she reminded him.

“Yeah,” he said unconvincingly. “Of course. I will, I will.”

Angela raised a warning eyebrow, but let it slide. In her defense, it was either very late or very early, and she was exhausted.

Abandoned Watchpoints always seemed eerily silent, especially at night; they couldn’t afford to attract attention by bringing up any lights that could be visible from the outside. Still, she made her way through the facility toward the former briefing room that now served as a general common area, beyond which were the offices that had been converted into bedrooms with inflatable mattresses and bedframes from the barracks.

To her surprise, the lights were already on in the common room.

What on Earth, she thought with mild existential despair, was anyone doing  _ up  _ at this hour?

“Hey, Mercy,” Hana said, chipper as if it were two in the afternoon rather than three in the morning.

She and Fareeha, for some reason, were sitting on the floor, playing some old board game--it looked like Battleship, which made Angela smile. Zarya was missing, presumably because she was sleeping like a normal person.

Fareeha, who had apparently found an old security jumpsuit and looked charmingly natural in it, stretched tiredly.

“We’re waiting for the new kid,” she said. “Apparently.”

“She volunteered,” said Hana.

“I was drafted.”

“Lucio hasn’t arrived yet, I take it?” Angela sat down on an old couch. It was a sign of desperation that they were calling Lucio in--not that she doubted his skills, mind. But he had done them a universe of good as a clean, independent PR force--and the under-the-table financial assistance and networking he’d given them hadn’t hurt, either. Pulling him away from that, however willing and eager he was, because they needed another body...he was a fit young man with a good heart and an incredible mind, but they were losing a great asset in simply making him a field agent.

“Any minute,” Hana answered. “Remind me to have him sign my poster. That boy  _ knows  _ his music.”

“Groupie,” Fareeha said flatly.

“No, no.” Hana grinned. “I  _ have  _ groupies. Your move.”

A sigh. “I won.”   


“You did not! Mercy, she’s cheating.”

“ _ Row _ I, column  _ one _ .”

Hana looked sheepish. “Right. What? Not my language. Miss.”

Muttering under her breath that it wasn’t hers, either, Fareeha scowled. “You’re cheating. I don’t know how, but you’re cheating.” “

Hana twirled a pink phone bangle around one finger. “It’s pronounced  _ winning _ ,” she said sweetly.

“Did you hack Athena’s cameras?”

“That’s offensive! I don’t use hacks. I’m just  _ good _ . Get a better strategy!”

Fareeha threw her hands in the air. “There is no  _ strategy  _ in  _ Battleship! _ You just have to guess! It’s dumb luck!”

“And  _ that  _ right there is why you’re losing. Hey Mercy, Mei called about twenty minutes ago to say the taxi you sent out finally got her to the dropoff point. Tell Pharah it’s not my fault she’s bad at Battleship.”

“Don’t bring me into this,” Angela tossed back. She picked up an old magazine that was lying on the worn sofa and opened it reflexively, glancing at a clock on the wall. She didn’t like to think about Mei trying to make her way up here alone, but they couldn’t risk sending out their own skycars in case they were being watched and any vehicles showing up carried the same risk. Less danger in one or two people slipping inside than in sending out field agents to bring them in.

Still. It should be a thirty-minute hike from the dropoff. She would give Mei forty-five minutes, then go looking if she hadn’t arrived safely by then.

She wasn’t going to sleep at all tonight, was she?

Angela sighed, absently flipped a page in the magazine, and tried to pretend she was interested in...flower arranging? Golf?  _ Who  _ had been in charge of stocking Overwatch’s waiting rooms?

Five minutes later and halfway through an article about either flower arrangement or golf, Angela still hadn’t figured out which, there was an ungodly rattle--the distinct sound of a delivery-bay door being hauled open. A few seconds later, an even more ungodly rattle as the door fell back into place. Hana looked up hopefully, but glanced at her garish mech where it was parked in the corner as well. Angela reached over slowly and grabbed her caduceus.

A moment later, the door blew open.

Hana bit down on a scream, Angela leapt to her feet, and before she even realized it Fareeha had dived toward her and grabbed the pistol off her hip, twisting to bring it up. Mei-Ling Zhou, who had just stuck her head around the door, yelped and ducked back behind it; Fareeha quickly lowered the weapon and handed it back to Angela without a word. Angela poked her between the shoulders with the caduceus, made sure the safety was back on, and set the pistol on the side table.

Meanwhile, Lucio had arrived.

Everyone on the team was fondly familiar with Hana and Lena’s little private ritual, a quick-fire “secret handshake” between their two youngest members. Hana’s greeting with Lucio was...well, Angela wouldn’t quite describe it as a  _ handshake _ . It had thirty-two separate moves, and more closely resembled some bizarre birdlike mating ritual than any handshake she’d ever seen.

It was certainly...enthusiastic.

“ _ Ha! _ ”

As they finished off with twin full-power punches to one another’s left shoulder, Hana broke into a grin and flung her arms around Lucio’s neck. She was tiny enough that he could lift her off her feet and spin her around as they laughed.

“You’re late,” she told him when he put her back down, punching him in the arm again.

“I know, I know! Got sidetracked, I had to relocate some assets. Hey-hey! Pharah, right? Nice to meet you, sir.” Fareeha, looking mollified after the fright he’d given them, went to shake his hand and blinked several times when he punched her bicep instead. “You too, Dr. Ziegler! Sorry I’m late. Got turned around on the hike up. Luckily this nice lady gave me a hand. D.va, man, look, I got bored on the plane and I mixed something up real quick I want you to look at, your highlight-reel intros need a better theme…”

“Finally,” Fareeha sighed as they wandered off. “I’m going to bed. Welcome back to Overwatch, ma’am,” she added with a polite nod to Mei. Angela patted her shoulder as she left.

Mei was grinning at the kids’ exuberant greeting, and Angela was relieved that she didn’t seem phased by having a muscular Egyptian pull a gun on her. “Hello, Mei,” she sighed, pulling the shorter woman into a hug. Mei gave a soft laugh and returned it, squeezing her warmly. “It’s  _ good  _ to see you again, dear.”

“It feels nice to be back in uniform,” she admitted. “Even if there  _ isn’t  _ a uniform.”

Angela smiled and shook her head. “Oh, I wish I didn’t know what you mean. Have you eaten? You must be exhausted.”

Mei nodded, eager to help as always. “I ate on the way here,” she assured her. “Ooo, I  _ missed  _ you, Angela! Why is everyone still awake..? What time is it? It’s morning for me.”

With another barely-suppressed yawn and a pointed look at the clock, Angela assured her, “You are  _ not  _ the only one ready to sleep. I can take this,” she said, taking the handle of Mei’s suitcase so she could carry her heavier but intensely precious cryo-equipment. “We’ve set up rooms just down this hallway…”

* * *

 

Angela Ziegler suppressed a moan as she stopped to lean against the wall.

At least Mei was more than used to travelling--and travelling light--in her line of work. Angela liked her; she was gentle, adaptable, astoundingly resilient, and never argued with her physician. She also needed no help settling in, which Angela was only mildly ashamed of being so relieved by. She didn’t dare check the time. She didn’t want to know.

She was about to make the walk up to the medbay where she’d set up her own temporary quarters, but her limbs felt so heavy the thought of even that short a trek made her recoil. She actually found herself thinking longingly of the hard, scratchy sofa in the common area.  _ Too old for that _ , she thought ruefully. Someone like Lena could find a good night’s sleep on any mostly-flat surface; Angela would like a real bed, thank you.

Well, necessity was the mother of...desperate measures. Foreign-language idioms were for people who had slept in the past thirty-four hours.

This late at night (early in the morning?) it would have been rude to knock; she turned the doorknob and let herself in as quietly as possible. Not quite quietly enough, however.

“Oxton,” Zarya growled in a half-conscious slur. “Touch that light, I  _ break you _ . No pranks.”

Oh,  _ Lena _ .

Angela crossed her arms, lips twitching invisibly in the dark. “I’ll leave the light off, then.”

A brief pause, followed by a tired groan.

“ _ You _ ,” Zarya decided, “are allowed to wake me up.”

Angela winced. “That was an accident. I wish  _ I  _ wasn’t up. May I?”

Zarya gave a wide, jaw-cracking yawn, and Angela heard rustling as she, presumably, moved over to make room on the large air mattress she’d laid claim to when they first arrived.

She hummed as Angela felt her way over and sat down next to her. “Normally,” she said with a stretch, “I would promise to keep you up for the rest of night. Tonight…” Another huge yawn “You can take rain check.”

Angela couldn’t help laughing quietly at that as she lay down. “You’re playing up your accent again,  _ Liebling _ .”

A chuckle rumbled in her ear as Zarya put an arm around her chest. “Mmm. Accent has mind of own,” she said sleepily. “All the beautiful women like...”

“And there are a lot of us, are there?” Angela asked wryly.

“Many.” It was accompanied by a light, teasing squeeze that made Angela swear she could hear her ribs creaking until she was released.

“You don’t know your own strength,” she wheezed.

At that, Zarya laughed softly. “There, you are wrong.” She placed a gentle kiss on Angela’s temple before burying her face in her pillow again. She said something else, muffled by the pillow. It sounded suspiciously similar to “strong like bull.” Angela smiled and relaxed against Zarya’s broad chest.

“Don’t let me oversleep,” she whispered. “I have to...speak to Lena in...what are you--”

“Hush,” Zarya mumbled. The hand that had been groping blindly around Angela’s head finally found her face and pressed two fingers to her lips. “We are sleeping now.”

“Darling I really do need to…” Those two fingers patiently tapped her lips. “Oh...yes, all right.”

It wouldn’t kill her to close her eyes for a few hours, even if by now she’d never sleep. Anyway, surely she’d be woken up by Zarya getting out of bed anyway. She needed to start getting essential medical supplies from the Watchpoint’s medbay packed up for relocation in the morning, Lena’s injured leg would at least have to be examined before putting her back on it, and…

There was probably a third item on the list, but she was asleep before she thought of it.


End file.
